


New Sword, New House, New Life

by LadyRavenEye



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, The Song of the Lioness - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 05:55:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2570588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRavenEye/pseuds/LadyRavenEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fluffy drabble set after George and Alanna's wedding, to test my new ao3feed tumblr for Tammy fanfic (ao3feed-tamorapierce.tumblr.com)</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Sword, New House, New Life

George tiptoed toward the room with the cracked door and firelight flickering into the hallway beyond it.  He could hear a steady scraping sound coming from within, and he pushed the door open as noiselessly as he could manage.  He must have managed well, because the person seated inside didn’t look up from her task.

Sliding toward her on stocking feet, George snaked an arm around her middle and whispered,

“Come back t’ bed, little Lioness.”

Alanna jumped at his touch, but then sighed and continued to scrape the whetstone against the edge of her new blade.  It was a splendid weapon, glimmering and deadly. It was capped by an amethyst surrounded by sapphires, with gold wire circling the guard.  The hilt was plain leather, like Alanna liked it, and at least Jonathan had got _that_ part right in this extravagant wedding present.

“I could have killed you, you know,” she told her husband, who chuckled into her coppery hair.

“Never me, love.”

“What are you doing awake?”

“Tis our first night in Pirate’s Swoop as man and wife.  Ye think I wouldn’t notice ye were gone?”

“You need to work on your accent,” Alanna snapped.

“Pardon me, my lady, my brain must be addled with fatigue.  I was merely inquiring as to the wellbeing of your own mental state, since that marvelous blade could cut the wings off of a fly and needs not more sharpening,” said George, in a perfect courtly simper.  Alanna stopped her task and grinned up at her husband.

“Heretofore and forthwith, and such and so on, and besmirchment as it is what with the goings on and doings of and around court,” George continued, and Alanna began to giggle and then laugh outright when George finished his nonsense with a very rude noise.

“There’s my lass,” he said, dropping into his normal brogue and touching the smile on Alanna’s lips.  “Tell me true, what’s goin’ on?”

Alanna sighed, frowned, and looked into the fire.

“I’m scared,” she said in a small voice.  “Scared of being the Champion.”

“Ye’ve been Champion more’n two months now.”

“But I was with the Bazhir, then planning the wedding, then the honeymoon,” she said, and leaned appreciatively into George when he hummed with pleasure, no doubt remembering the blissful last two weeks.

“Now there’s nothing to distract me.  From being Champion, and…”

“And Roger,” George finished.  Alanna nodded.

“No one blames ye for th’ nightmares.  No one blames ye for th' palace.  How many times do I need t’ say it before ye believe me?”

“At least a few more,” Alanna whispered, and George hugged her tight.

“Come back t’ bed, Lioness.  I can think of a few activities besides sharpenin’ that fine blade that’ll tire ye out.”

Alanna grinned delightedly at George, put the new sword carefully aside, and allowed herself to be scooped up and carried out of the room.


End file.
